


Boyloons

by Zumberge



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ass Expansion, Blowkiss, Breast Expansion, F/M, Femdom, Gen, Inflation, M/M, Macro/Micro, Oral Sex, Popping, blueberry expansion, cock growth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29779068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zumberge/pseuds/Zumberge
Summary: Several one-off male-centric inflation and expansion stories, packed together for your convenience.
Kudos: 12





	1. Chemistry (full body, oral, femdom)

He leaned back on the sofa, casting an appreciative eye across the penthouse apartment. "It's a very nice place you have here."

"Thank you." She poured two glasses of wine, setting the bottle down on the kitchen counter.

"It must not come cheap."

"Oh, it's quite expensive." She palmed a small tablet, glancing at him to ensure he was distracted before dropping it into one of the glasses with practiced ease. The tablet broke apart, rapidly dissolving in the wine. "But it's a small price to pay for privacy."

She took up both glasses and left the kitchen, heels clicking on the tile floor as she crossed the open room. As she approached she offered him the glass; he took it gratefully, swirling the wine around a bit before taking a sip. Smiling, she walked away, acting as if she was looking out the wide window in front of her even as she carefully observed his reflection. Judging from how eagerly he downed the wine the club didn't seem to whet his desire for drink, and he clearly didn't notice anything odd about it, seeming more focused on her how ass looked in that dress.

"So what do you do?" he asked.

She ran down the list in her mind: Chemistry, biology, engineering... "A bit of everything," she replied, turning to face him. He had the look of a man who was out of it yet too out of it to realize it. Not completely drunk, but still pliable. She smiled as she neared him, setting her glass down on the low coffee table.

"So you're a... Renaissance... woman?"

She knelt down in front of him and began unbuckling his belt. "You could say that. I'm a woman of many talents." She pulled him out of his boxers, watching as he stiffened before her eyes. "Allow me to demonstrate."

His back involuntarily arched as she took him into her mouth, slowly working its length. Her tongue gently stroked him as she lowered her lips onto him, and as she drew back she swirled her tongue around the tip. It was as if she knew his body as well as he did, pushing him forward, yet stopping just short of the edge.

She looked up at him, staring at the ceiling, oblivious to the fact that his once-trim and toned stomach was suddenly beginning to rise up. She pulled him out of her mouth, working him with her hands as she watched, dress shirt stretching across his girth. She wanted to touch it, caressing his skin as it grew beneath her fingertips, but no. Not yet.

He realized something was wrong just as the first button snapped off, sailing into the air and revealing a diamond-shaped patch of skin. He looked down at her in shock, his view half-blocked by the dome of his stomach and growing smaller as two more buttons shot off into the distance. He tried to speak, but could only muster a "what-" before she cut him short by burying his shaft in her mouth, working it with a newfound intensity.

The rest of his words came out as a series of moans as he gripped the sides of the sofa, paralyzed by her ministrations. The last of the buttons on his shirt gave way as his pectorals swelled, his chest soon rivaling, then surpassing her own. His stomach continued growing wider and fuller, blocking his view of her even as it spread to his sides and back. Below, his ass was filling his pants to bursting and beyond, stitches tearing as it tore the material apart.

Drawing him from her mouth a second time she stood up, watching as his hips and chest began to merge with his belly, his body beginning to take on a more rounded shape. She found the sight of the puffed-up man lying on her sofa almost comical: A growing ball with a head and limbs, with shoes, torn pant legs and shirt sleeves as the last remnants of his decency. But not his dignity, she thought, as she watched him rock to and fro, attempting to stand up while simultaneously feeling himself over and trying to squeeze the air out.

She took a sip of her wine to cleanse her palate before lifting her leg and pressing the heel of her shoe into the underside of his belly. "Stop wiggling, please."

He froze, too scared of what might happen should he move. "What's going on?! Why am I... why am I getting-"

"Inflated?" She tipped her glass, finishing off the last of the wine. "It's very simple. Your drink contained a substance of my own devising that causes you to expand when sexually aroused." She lowered her leg before kicking off her shoes. "So if you want to stop getting bigger I suggest thinking of a cold shower."

As his face was blocked by his body she could only imagine his reaction, but as she slipped out of her dress she noticed his growth slowing before stopping entirely, leaving him the size of a beanbag chair. He had no fair amount of self-control, she thought, but judging from his heavy breathing he was still shaken up. "Good." She slipped out of her panties, leaving her in her pantyhose and garterbelt. "There's something I should warn you of, however. I've noticed that as the subject grows larger they tend to grow more sensitive."

She sprang up onto the sofa before mounting him, straddling his body with her thighs. She stared down at him, lust smouldering in her eyes as she rubbed her hands across his chest. As she leaned forward she pressed her breasts into him as she lowered her voice sultry whisper. "...so try not to think about how good this feels."

His eyes widened in fear as he felt himself stiffen, followed by the unmistakable sensation of growth. She laughed, bouncing and grinding on him, reveling in the tautness of his skin and the movement of air beneath her. "Come on," she breathed, "be my blimp... bigger... bigger..."

As his body inflated so too did his limbs. His biceps and thighs grew thicker, going from normal to muscled to fat to beyond in a matter of moments, tearing apart the last bits of his clothing. As the air spread down his arms and legs they filled out into overstuffed caricatures of themselves, thick and conical, still able to move and bend but comically misproportioned to his round body and utterly useless to him now.

He clenched his fists, only to have them be forced open by his swelling palms. He flexed his fingers, only to have them puff up as his hands transformed into a collection of flesh-toned balloons. His shoes began to bulge, and seconds later they exploded off of him, ripped apart by two bloated loaves twice their size. Even his face was not untouched as his cheeks bulged, forcing him to squint.

Every part of him was filled with air, wanting to and yet unable to stop, spurred onward by the woman riding him. The pressure slowly began to rise, and still he grew. His skin began to grow tighter, and still he grew. His body creaked more and more with each of her bounces, and still he grew.

"Please... stop it." He forced the words through pursed lips as loudly as he could. "I'm too big!"

"No," she panted, in a haze of lust. "No. Not too big. Can... can barely touch ceiling."

His body was filled to the brim, aching for release. "You're going to pop me!" 

"No. The biggest. Too big to pop. Special formula. Perfect."

As she said that the pressure stopped rising, leaving him with a near-unbearable tightness and fullness. Nearly enough to pop him, but stopping just short of the edge.

"Yes! My blimp!" Atop his belly her bouncing grew more frantic, his body groaning as she ground into him harder and harder. "So big, so huge, so tight, so-" Her body tensed up as she trembled and came, letting out a silent cry before falling forward onto him, panting, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Please," he grunted. "You have to deflate me."

"No. Never. You're the biggest I've ever had."

"What are you going to do to me?"

A weary, satisfied laugh left her lips; it was the single most terrifying thing he had ever heard. "Whatever I want."


	2. Ascent (full body, BE)

She strode barefoot across the sands, wavy black hair blowing in the wind behind her. Tall, tanned, and athletic, her red one-piece swimsuit hugged her form, leaving nothing to the imagination. It was a clear day, and the beach had more than a few visitors, some of whom had noticed her arrival. She knew she would attract attention - and even more, soon enough - though she paid it no mind. What others thought, or would think, was of no concern to her.

As she neared the shore she pulled her arms out of her swimsuit and rolled it down, letting her breasts hang free. Ignoring the murmurs of disapproval behind her she stopped just before the water, staring out at the sea. Without a word she took a breath and spread her arms, and her breasts began to inflate.

They went from their normal shape to globular in an instant, her nipples pulled flat across their surface as they grew. In a matter of seconds each were larger than beach balls, hanging down past her navel, and seconds later they grew past her knees, their pace not slowing.

By the time her breasts touched the sand, over four feet around, she had caught the attention of nearly everyone on the beach. The reactions of the men varied from stunned disbelief, to confusion, to amusement, but the women only stared, enrapt at the sight before them. One by one, they approached the shore, shedding their shirts and bikini tops as they went, stopping just before the water. One by one, they spread their arms, and one by one, their breasts began to inflate.

Their pace was rapid, though none grew as fast as the woman in red; by the time theirs touched the ground hers were over twice her height, resting on the surface of the water. Stretched along the beach was a row of flesh-toned spheres, growing ever larger in the midday sun.

To the left of the woman in red was a pale girl barely out of her teens. No less than five minutes ago she had no breasts to speak of; now they were eight feet across, towering above her with cleavage deep enough to hide in. A sudden gust blew and they bobbed up, pulling the girl forward as they rose higher and higher until finally, with a surprised laugh, the girl's feet left the ground. Whooping loudly in celebration, she pulled off her bikini bottom and let it fall, rising naked into the sky.

The men on the beach watched as, one by one, the others took flight, carried by their massively inflated assets. In the middle of it all the woman in red continued to grow, now larger than a two-story house. Still, she remained on the ground, even as the others drifted away. If she heard their shouts or cries as they left she made no move to acknowledge it as she continued to stand there, arms spread and growing.

Finally, the last of the others was carried off, leaving her alone on the shoreline once more. She lowered her arms, looking up at her gargantuan breasts. There were no longer any murmurs of disapproval - only stunned silence - but what others thought was of no concern of her.

The wind blew, and the woman's feet left the ground. Carried aloft by twin tanned hot air balloons she laughed as she drifted into the sky, mingling with the others as they lazily floated over the sea.

*****

The door to the changing room opened and a thin young man of about twenty stepped out, adjusting his swim trunks. "Sorry it took so long," he said. "I..." He trailed off as he looked around, noticing that his companion was gone and that the people nearby, all men, were staring off into space. Following their lines of sight up to the beach, he caught sight of a cluster of paired flesh-toned balloons floating into the distance. It didn't take him long to realize what they really were.

"Oh no, not again."

Sprinting down the boardwalk he gasped for air, drawing in lungful after lungful without bothering to exhale. His chest and stomach rapidly swelled into an impressive set of pecs and a wide belly, and his limbs thickened. With each breath he grew larger and fatter with air, his shirt pushed up by his growing midsection. Each step set his body shaking, and his growing, pneumatic girth was slowing his pace, making it harder and harder to move.

He dodged to the side to avoid another man on the boardwalk, tripping over a loose board in the process. Landing on his stomach, he bounced forward several feet before coming to rest and, grunting, rocked side to side before gathering enough momentum to return to his feet. Staggering forward, he continued pulling in air, ducking into the scuba shop and taking hold of a cart with four diving tanks on it.

This act did not go unnoticed by the clerk, who was trying to figure out which was more worthy of attention: The fact that the fat man who just entered his store was slowly getting larger, or why he was trying to make off with an armload of diving equipment. "What... are you doing?"

"I'm going after my girlfriend!" he shouted, dragging the cart outside.

The clerk tried to process what this meant as the young man tore the mouthpieces off the hoses and opened the valves, taking two hoses in each hand. "But those are oxygen tanks. You can't fly with them."

He pointed at the floating women. "Tell them that," he said. Thrusting out his stomach, he shoved two hoses deeply into his navel and the other two into his mouth.

His cheeks puffed out to the size of baseballs as the air entered him with explosive force. His body instantly blew outward a foot in all directions, tearing his shirt and trunks to shreds. A deep hissing echoed from within him as his limbs were forced to the sides, growing thicker before being absorbed by the sphere of his body until all that remained of his arms and legs were flat, circular lumps with hands and feet protruding from dimples at their ends. He quickly grew to five feet across, then six before the hissing grew silent. Spitting out the hoses he shouted, "more air!"

The clerk stared. "How the-"

He looked pointedly in the direction of some onlookers before jerking his head in the clerk's direction. "You two! Help him!"

One of them nodded and hurried off into the store, taking the clerk by the arm. The other began to follow but stopped and glanced at the young man's lower hemisphere before averting his eyes and pointing. "You do know you're naked, right?"

"You have one too, you know."

"Well not one like -that-..."

The clerk and the other man quickly returned, each holding a thick hose that trailed back into the interior of the store. The clerk wedged his into the young man's navel before retreating into the back again, while the other rolled him forward and put it into his mouth.

As the air began to flow his cheeks bulged once more, the hissing echoing inside him as his body continued its push upward and outward. He grew over the heads of the onlookers, then the store awning, then the building itself. Twelve feet, then thirteen, then fourteen... the onlookers, once curious, began to grow concerned. Suddenly his inflation slowed for a moment, and his body let out a loud pneumatic groan before throbbing outward and resuming its pace. The people around him - including the clerk - panicked and scattered, leaving him alone and growing outside the shop.

The young man could hear the people fleeing, but was barely able to see anything through his puffed-up cheeks and over the horizon of his chest. At least they did their part, he thought; the rest was up to him. He was large - he knew that much - but he wasn't airborne, and if they could do it then damn it, so could-

The wind blew past, and for a second his backside lifted up from the boardwalk. He almost let the hose drop from his mouth in excitement, but caught himself in time and clamped down harder, waiting for a second breeze. As if on cue it lifted him up and held him in the air, his body tethered by the hoses. The one in his navel popped free, his grip on the one in his mouth turning him upside-down before he let go.

Floating above the sea, he drifted along, trailing after the human balloons that left before him.

*****

The pale girl bobbed on the breeze, held aloft by her enormous, floating breasts. The experience was incredible: The soft caress of the wind over her skin, the feeling of freedom as she floated, unrestrained, through the air... it was bliss. She couldn't help but shake the thought that she left something important behind, though...

"Hey, wait up!"

She looked over her shoulder to see her boyfriend, naked as she was and blown up to an amazing size, floating towards her. As he neared, she reached out and grabbed the tattered remains of the shirt dangling from his neck. "You left without saying anything," he said.

She cringed. "Sorry, things just kind of happened."

"No kidding. Half the beach floated away." He looked her over. "How big are you, anyway?" 

"I don't know. I wasn't paying attention. How big are you?"

"Dunno. Lost track."

"Oh. Well," she said, tying the end of his shirt to her wrist, "we're bound to float back over land eventually. We can worry about landing-"

"...and clothes."

"-and clothes then."

"Gonna be a while, though. We're pretty far out."

"Mhm."

Silence.

"Mile High Club?"

"Okay."


	3. Competition (full body)

They say every man has a special talent. Mine isn't that useful, but at least it's unique.

I took a few deep breaths to prepare, looking myself over in a full-length mirror. There was no shortage of old sweatshirts and sweatpants in second-hand clothing stores, and I made sure to stock up when I could. They were kept in a box away from prying eyes when not in use, and when I was finished with them I buried them at the bottom of the trash can to hide the evidence. I didn't need them, but they did make the whole experience better. At least, I thought so.

Opening my mouth wide I took a deep breath, slowly at first, pulling in air without stopping. Immediately I began to fill out my sweatshirt, the cloth pulling against my chest and stomach. My navel poked out from beneath the hem as I continued to inflate, my belly pushing out before spreading out into a spare tire around my waist. My shoulders and ass began to swell, and my back rounded out to join them.

I patted my stomach, feeling the sleeves of my sweatshirt grow snug as my arms grew thicker. A second later my legs joined in, hips stretching the tired elastic of the waistband as they filled with air. My hands and feet came last, the bony digits swelling out into smooth curves.

I stopped inhaling and paused to look myself over in the mirror. Before I was unremarkable and average, but now I was soft and puffy, large but not heavy. I loved the tension and fullness, being so big and buoyant, and I felt myself stiffen and grow hard.

I took another deep breath, adding a few inches to my waistline and some more thickness all over. My sleeves and pant legs began to grow tight, and I grinned, flexing. I hadn't just gotten bigger around; I had gained two or three inches of height as well. I knew it was just air, but it was hard not to feel powerful.

"Ahem."

It was hard to feel powerful when your girlfriend came back early from her visit with her friends to discover you doing your best impression of a blimp, though.

She leaned against the door frame, red hair framing a smug smile. "Well, well, well. What have we here?"

As soon as the words left my mouth I realized how dumb they were. "It's not what it looks like!"

"Oh really." She stepped forward and poked me in the stomach, her finger sinking in. "Because it looks like some really crazy shit to me."

At this point I was too preoccupied trying to defend my pride to try and deflate. "I can explain-"

"Outside, Michelin," she said, pointing towards the back door before stepping aside.

Despite my size I suddenly felt very small. I waddled to the door, trying to pass through only to wedge my stomach between the frames. I struggled for a bit to free myself until she shoved me through with a foot to my ass, and I stumbled forward, bouncing off a wall before regaining my balance.

I looked back at her and she gestured for me to keep walking, smiling at my clumsiness. I waddled on, hoping for the ground to open up so I could fall in and hide forever.

*****

Our backyard was big and empty, surrounded by a fence and dense forest, but as I stood outside I felt like the whole world was watching me. The only person who was, though, was my girlfriend, staring at me with a blank expression on her face some yards away.

"So," she began. "You like blowing yourself up?"

My cheeks were burning. Doing it is one thing, but admitting it is a lot harder.

"Answer me. Do you like blowing yourself up?"

"...yes."

"Does being a balloon turn you on?"

I couldn't meet her eyes. Despite being caught red-handed I was still erect.

"I can tell you like it. Does this turn you on?"

"Yes." I practically had to force the words out. If she was trying to humiliate me, she was doing a good job of it.

"Can you get bigger?"

"Yes." What was she getting at, I wondered?

She nodded slowly, watching me, then started to inhale and didn't stop. I stared in shock as her her flat chest quickly grew into two globes the size of her head and her stomach swelled out, pushing her t-shirt up and out of way as her midsection grew rounder. Her backside ballooned, the stitches giving on her shorts as her thighs thickened, followed by her arms and the rest of her legs. In less than ten seconds she was just as big and full as I was. She sighed contentedly as a faint blush spread across her cheeks. Noticing my dumbfounded look she asked, "what's the matter, balloon boy? I thought you said could get bigger?"

That was all I needed. Smiling in relief, I took the deepest breath I could, my sweats stretching as my body swelled all over, my limbs thickening and my torso losing definition. The sweats strained before tearing apart, falling to the ground and leaving me nude in front of her.

My girlfriend nodded, satisfied, before joining in. Her breasts grew, straining her shirt before ripping it down the center and bouncing free atop her ever-growing stomach. A second later her backside tore her shorts apart, her panties holding on for a moment longer before they too ripped and fell away.

The interrogation had become a competition, the two of us taking in air and forcing ourselves rounder. Our bodies were nothing but belly, balanced on legs that grew wider and shorter by the second. I loved being so full and so huge, and judging from her blissful expression, so did she.

I felt the curve of my backside brush against the grass the moment before my feet left the ground. I waved my arms around as they gradually lost mobility, swelling into wide hemispheres on my sides. Across from me my girlfriend looked over the canyon formed by her cleavage and waved, open-mouthed. All the air that would have gone into her arms must be going into her breasts. Lucky her.

A gust of wind blew from behind, causing me to sway before slowly rolling onto my stomach. My breath caught in my throat and I stopped, trying to suck in more air but to no avail. I had reached my limit.

In front of me was the wide curve of my girlfriend's body, taut and full. Her navel, normally an outie, had swollen out into a grapefruit-sized bubble. As I marvelled at her she shouted, "hey! Did you stop!"

"Yeah! Did you?"

"Yuh-huh. This is as big as I can get on my own." Her navel bobbed and she slowly rocked back and forth, and after some effort she rolled forward with a grunt. Her titanic breasts dragged across my back, shoulders and chest, my head passing through a yard of cleavage before I came nose-to-nose to her, glowing with exertion and with a dreamy smile plastered on her face. "Hi there."

"Hi."

"We're huge."

"Yeah."

She licked her lips, trying to think of something to say. "God, I'm horny."

"I know," I laughed.

She gently put her arms around my neck, and I turned my head as I leaned in as best I could. Our lips met, my eyes closed, and she pulled me in, giving me a deep, long kiss.

Then my eyes shot open as she suddenly tightened her grip and -blew-.

I could feel the pressure building in me before my body stretched to accompany it, skin pulsing outward before finally growing steadily. I was growing out of control, the air pushing into me, searching for whatever space it could find. The last curves of my limbs were pulled flat, my hands and feet swelling into balls before being absorbed by my body, leaving me a near-perfect sphere, gigantic and still growing.

I watched helpless as she blew into me, her own body shrinking in my shadow, her breath warm and fierce, hissing as it raged inside me. My body vibrated as it reached a limit I never knew I had, letting out a pneumatic "tak-tak-tak," and my cheeks and lips swelled up, pursing shut. She pulled back, still plump and full of air. "I guess you won."

I couldn't think straight, there was so much so much pressure, so tight, so full, so hard, so huge, so helpless, so powerful, I wanted her to fuck me, pop me, blow me, roll me, pump me, ride me-

She leaned in and kissed me again, pushing the last of her air into me. My body squeaked as it shifted around, barely large enough to hold it. I tried to blow it out, but could only manage a series of tiny puffs. 

She laughed, running a finger down my side. "But don't let it get to your head, balloon boy. I won't let you win a second time."


	4. 33 Percent Off (full body, h2o)

She moved through the water with an angel's grace, her form as lithe and honed as her body. She spoke little, yet her presence parted crowds as easily as the waves. Many approached her, yet all found her cold and distant, turned down time and again by the same phrase.

"Your body is only seventy percent water. I could never put you before swimming."

He stared at her. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly as it sounds." She scaled the ladder, water dripping down her one-piece swimsuit as she exited the pool. "Water is my first love, and this pool-" She made a sweeping gesture as she walked past him. "-is one point four two eight five seven times you by volume. By asking me out, you are valuing yourself, at minimum, one point four two eight five eight times more highly than you should."

His mouth moved wordlessly for a second as he began to trail after her. "I'm not asking you to give up swimming, I'm just asking you out on a date."

"I understand that. My answer is still no."

He held his hands out pleadingly, wracking his brain for something that he could say to change her mind, before stopping and letting his arms fall to his sides in defeat. "Please, I'll do anything."

She stopped abruptly, still facing away from him. "Anything."

"Yeah, anything."

She turned her head, looking intently at him over her shoulder. "Anything," she repeated, interest creeping into her voice.

He nodded vigorously. "Just name it."

Wordlessly, she took him by the wrist and lead him around the edge of the pool towards the opposite wall. It was just enough time for the silence to grow awkward; he debated filling it with small talk before realizing that it would probably only make things -more- awkward, and so resigned himself to waiting until they reached their destination.

She let go of his hand a few paces from the wall, and he stopped while she continued on towards a faucet attached to a coil of hose. She picked up the hose and opened the faucet, causing a stready stream of water to pour from the nozzle onto the tile floor as she returned to him. "If you are attempting to compete with swimming for my affections," she began, "the simplest solution would be to decrease the ratio by increasing the denominator."

He blinked. "I... don't understand?"

"Allow me to demonstrate." With that, she thrust the end of the hose forward, wedging it firmly into his navel.

He recoiled, suddenly aware of a rising feeling of pressure and weight. He clutched at his growing stomach with one hand, attempting to pull the hose free with the other only to find it stuck fast. Staring in shock, he watched as he quickly grew a beer gut that continued to grow, jutting out in front of him. The pressure began to spread lower, and he glanced down to see that his hips, too, were rapidly widening. "What's going on?!"

"As I said, I'm increasing the denominator."

His thighs brushed against each other as his legs doubled and tripled in girth, the water filling them out into thick, soft pillars. Behind him his backside kept pace, his swim tights stretching to contain him as he grew increasingly pear-shaped. "I'm filling with water?!"

"Yes, as I said. It's almost as if you have no understanding of basic algebra."

As his stomach swelled down to his knees he grasped it as best he could, hands sinking into his sides as he tried to lift it to keep from falling forward. As he did, though, the water inside of him shifted, pushing his hips out another several inches. His center of balance thrown off, he fell backwards, wobbling and audibly sloshing as his butt hit the ground.

Coming to rest he felt the pressure in his upper body rise, and his hands flew to his chest in time for him to feel it fill, fingers spreading as it grew. It quickly worked its way up down his sides and up his shoulders, then down his arms; he was helpless to stop it as he watched the last parts of his body take on a rounded fatness that kept growing without pause. As his stomach continued to fill with gallons of water he stared pleadingly at her; despite the fact that he was sitting down, his ass was so large that he was eye-to-eye with her. "Turn it off. Please."

She leaned forward, elbows pressing into his stomach as she held her head in her hands. "Why?"

He felt his stomach brush against his shins as his arms were slowly forced out to his sides. "I'm getting too full!"

"So?"

His legs and arms swelled around his wrists and ankles. "'So?' I'm going to... to..."

"Going to pop?" She reached down with one hand, wedging the hose more deeply into his navel; as she returned to her position he became aware of a faint yet slowly rising pressure from deep inside him, pushing his skin out in all directions. "Not yet you aren't."


	5. Super (GTS, penis)

The man and the woman laced their fingers together, staring deeply into each others eyes as they sat on the park bench.

"I love you," the man cooed.

She blushed. "I love you more," the woman cooed back.

"No, I do."

"No, -I- do."

A giant fist slammed down onto the bench next to them, pounding the broken mess of wood into a small crater. Screaming, the couple tumbled off their seats, falling over themselves before clambering to their feet and sprinting away.

*****

Captain Crimson clicked the remote, and the holo-display winked off. "That was recorded in the park earlier today," he said, turning to the rest of the room, "and it's not an isolated incident. Over the past few days couples have reported large fist-related acts of violence in their vicinity."

"Sounds like some sort of giant person," Elastic Lad said.

The Titaness stopped filing her nails for long enough to give Elastic Lad a snide look. "Right, because it's -always- the giant person."

"I didn't mean it like-"

"On top of that," Captain Crimson continued, "there was a recent burglary of several hundred gallons of product at the ice cream factory, of all places, and we still need to figure out who - or what - was behind the accident at the Smythe Industries lab."

"Do you think there might be a connection?"

"To an untrained mind, yes." The Shade scowled. "But it would be a critical weakness to assume that these were all related."

"But-"

"The Shade is right," Captain Crimson said. "We need to think carefully about this. Rash actions won't get us anywhere."

The Titaness smirked. "Yeah, -Justin-. Leave the crime-fighting up to the people with actual superpowers."

Elastic Lad went to speak, but simply closed his mouth and walked out of the room, shaking his head.

*****

As the rest of the team had departed for Seattle (reasoning that the ice cream was coffee-flavored, and Starbucks sells coffee, therefore its theft was a clue that someone was scheming to attack Seattle), it fell upon Elastic Lad to figure out what was really going on. His first and most obvious clue was a strikingly attractive, strikingly large, and strikingly nude brunette in the city. She was hard for him to miss, being taller than some buildings, though the reverse could not be said for him. Without much in the way of options, he resorted to scaling an office complex and waving her down as she passed by. "Excuse me!"

The giant woman stopped and glanced about before looking back at him and pointing to herself with a confused expression.

"Yes, you, hi. Uh, listen, some people reported being attacked recently, and there was an accident at the Smythe laboratory a few days ago.  
You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Yes. Yes, I would. I would've thought one of you would have figured it out quicker."

Elastic Lad shook his head. "Don't be so sure. What about the attacks?"

"Look, I haven't been in a relationship for a while, and I don't know if it's hormones or the weird experiment that did this to me, but I've just been so..." She gestured before clenching her fists. "...frustrated lately. Maybe I took it out on people I shouldn't have, but nobody got hurt, right?"

"Frustrated?"

"Sexually."

"Oh." He thought for a moment. "Have you tried... you know...?"

"Masturbating?" She let out a light laugh as Elastic Lad cringed and blushed. "No, I've tried that, believe me." She held up one hand, wiggling her fingers. "I can't really get my motor going with just my hands, and everything I could use is a little small for me."

His blush deepened. "I, um. I think I can help with that."

"Really?"

He nodded, raised his thumb to his mouth. Pausing to steady his nerves, he took a deep breath, then blew, causing the front of his tights to bulge suddenly, growing to the size of a soda can. Another puff and it doubled in length, bunched up on itself. Wincing, he paused to unbuckle his belt, pulling it off and throwing it away. As he did so his length straightened out, poking out of the waistband of his tights.

The giantess leaned forward, causing a spiderweb of cracks to spread across the masonry as she rested her elbows on the edge of the building. "Do you do this often?"

A brief look of guilt crossed his face as his head snapped up to look at her. "What? No, no!"

She waved one hand dismissively. "It's fine, I didn't mean to put you on the spot. Continue."

He glanced to either side of him before continuing to blow into his thumb, a quiet hissing and creaking punctuating each fit of growth. With each puff he grew longer and thicker, reaching his navel, then his chest. Between his legs his balls swelled, forcing him to spread them further apart. As he continued to make his member swell, it bobbed with the motion of his body. Holding up his free hand, he held it away from him to keep it from swaying into his face, and as he did, he could feel the skin stretch beneath his fingers with every blow.

The woman leaned in for a better look, and he felt her warm breath blowing gently against him. He involuntarily twitched, the motion throwing off his balance and sending him falling back onto his balls, now the size of an overstuffed beanbag chair. The hissing and creaking was now audible to the woman as he continued to fill himself with air, growing firm and massive, his length soon becoming as tall and almost as thick as he was.

As Elastic Lad took another breath, the giantess held up a hand. "Woah, don't get carried away, now; I'm not -that- big."

He tried to lean to the side to get a better look at her but found his mobility and vision impaired by his newfound size. "This is good?"

"Oh, hell yes." Reaching out, she slid one hand beneath him and took his length in the other, lifting him up. He shuddered as she gently ran her thumb along his underside. "Now... what did you say your name was?"

"Justin. I mean, Elastic Lad."

She grinned. "Elastic -Man-, more like. Come on, let's go to the park."

"Wait, we're going to... i-in public?"

She shrugged. "I'm the size of a building. Who's going to stop me?"


	6. Looming (GT)

It's a big city I live in - tall buildings, a lot of people - and you'd think that it would be really easy to overlook someone like me. Ordinarily, you'd be right, but even though I'm not that tall, don't have a lot of money or an important job, people know who I am and think twice before messing with me.

Maybe I should explain. Or better yet, maybe I should show you.

I left my home that day dressed in clothes several sizes too large. Walking down the street was awkward in shoes that my feet kept sliding around in and pants I had to hold up with both hands. I stood on the street corner, letting everyone pass by. After a while someone across the way spotted me; we locked eyes, and they immediately turned and hurried back from whence they came. They knew what usually came next, and I wasn't about to let them down, so I took a deep breath, raised my thumb to my mouth, and blew.

Blowing up is unlike anything else I've ever experienced. At first there's a brief moment of resistance, then suddenly it's like stretching a limb, only across your entire body. There's the sound of rushing air and hissing from inside, and all at once the world grows smaller around you. Slack clothing starts to fit, and your line of sight rises higher, meeting, then surpassing the gaze of others as you go from a head shorter to a head taller than even the tallest stranger. A few stared at me, others hurried past trying to ignore me, no doubt hoping I would stop where I was for once. Eager to prove them wrong I took another breath; my shirt bulged out before I blew into my thumb again.

My body strained against my clothes as I grew, cloth tearing and stitches pulling apart. My pants were the first to go, diamond patches of skin appearing in overstuffed legs before ripping along the seams, followed by a waistband no longer able to contain my waist. Following that was my shirt, sleeves forced open by my shoulders before my sides pushed them further apart; impatient, I simply ripped the collar free and threw it away. My shoes, while durable, simply went to pieces as my feet kept pace with the rest of me. Within seconds I looked a little thicker than the average man, and definitely taller, with everyone around me only coming up to my hips, if that. I was also completely nude, but if anyone was worried about modesty, it wasn't me.

I strode down the sidewalk, the crowds giving me a clear berth. I paused every few steps to look into second-floor windows, tapping the glass to deliberately startle and rile up the people inside. It was a good start to the day, or it was until I stopped in front of a cafe, umbrellas and tables taking up some of the sidewalk. They clearly expected people to go around it, but such a detour was unacceptable to me. I pulled in air, my stomach swelling dramatically before blowing into my thumb again.

Greater amounts of air meant greater sizes; higher and wider, and faster. The people shrank around me as my entire body took on the beginnings of a curved plumpness, too defiant of gravity to be fat. As my breath tapered off the people were left milling around below my knees, fleeing as I moved. The cafe no longer proved to be an obstacle as I stepped over it, one foot on the road, the sidewalk now too narrow for me to walk down. No cars dare pass me, traffic coming to a stop in one lane. But as I walked I realized just how unfair it was. Why not block both lanes?

I breathed in deeply, and in, and in, the people below me growing concerned with my change in size. My gut loomed over them, full and round on my frame and almost as large as a weather balloon before I blew the air back into me. All at once I could feel every inch of my body pulling and stretching, growing thick and puffy as I expanded skyward. The buildings and street became a narrow aisle, and I shifted my inflated feet, crushing a parked car underfoot as I stood over the city like a giant parade float. I grinned with pride; to the people who viewed me from below it was quite obvious I was enjoying it.

The trip to the city park from my home was normally a long drive, but at my size it was merely a short stroll. As I walked I paused to puff myself up every so often, growing taller and rounder. By the time I set foot in the park I was so tall that the trees only came up to my ankles. My thighs rubbed against each other and my pear-shaped body slowly wobbled with each step, my gut and ass sticking out. My feet were blocked by my belly so I couldn't see what or where I was stepping on, but it didn't matter, since most people were smart enough to get away. Spread into the distance was a grid of roads too narrow for me to walk down, and around me were office buildings that almost, but not quite, reached my head. I was the largest thing in the city, but... I wasn't larger than the city.

Resting my hands on either side of my belly, I opened my mouth wide, the wind whistling as I breathed in. My stomach forced my arms apart as it swelled in all directions, growing out and to the sides, the bottom touching the ground before rising up. I arched my back, thrusting it out as I watched the curve of my own horizon rise up, obscuring the city, then the world beyond, then the sky. My own skin stretched over entire city blocks, my stomach resting above countless buildings with a waistline that could only be measured in thousands of feet. After what must have been an eternity to the citizens but all too fast for me, I stopped, raised my thumb to my mouth, and blew.

There was a moment of resistance before my entire body began to creak then, all at once, I lifted into the air as I grew at a fantastic rate. I felt my feet leave the ground a second before the rest of me lifted off. I spread my free arm and legs, limbs growing ever thicker as I floated up and grew taller, comparisons with people becoming more and more meaningless. The contents of my belly were magnified as air was forced back into me, a feedback loop fueling my explosive growth to a scale that people would find either awe-inspiring or terrifying to behold. After a long moment my breath ran out, though you would never guess it from the shape of me: I was little more than a sphere with limbs, a head, and a dick, every part of me swollen, round, and stretched out to a massive degree. Through the thin haze of low-hanging clouds I could see the city, covered in shadow as a body - my body - blotted out the sun.

Part of me wanted to continue. Part of me wanted to fill my manhood until it stretched out beyond the curve of my belly, thicker than my legs and larger than the rest of me. Part of me wanted to turn in the air, aim it towards the city, pump it up until I couldn't hold it any further and come in a torrent of hurricane-force wind, coating the city as my entire body was wracked by a mind-blanking orgasm that went on for minutes straight as I gradually shrank back to normal. But no, not today.

I usually did that on Wednesdays.


	7. Teasing (full body)

Lori winked to the other two young women. "Watch this." Stepping onto the path she walked through the park, stopping in front of a sandy-haired blond in a button-up shirt and cargo pants. "Hey Scott. You ready?"

"Sure," Scott replied, standing. "But what took you so long?"

"Oh, you know," she said, trying to sound casual. "I was distracted."

"By what?"

"Well..." She suppressed a smile. "There was this really big blimp flying overhead."

"It couldn't have been -that- big."

"No, it was pretty big."

Scott scowled, furrowing his brow as he took a step away from her. He took a deep breath before breathing in again, huffing and puffing. As he did his belly grew in surges, at first untucking his shirt, then pulling the fabric taut against it, going from full to stuffed to beyond. One by one his buttons popped free until he stopped, leaving him looking as if he swallowed a beach ball, shirt curtaining either side of it. "Well," he said, patting his belly, "it couldn't have been this big."

"Don't kid yourself," Lori retorted. "That's barely a balloon."

He nodded. "Okay." Again he huffed and puffed, gut slowly growing as air began to fill elsewhere. His pants first pulled taut across his backside, waistline straining before the fly simply broke. The legs were next, swelling thighs filling the fabric and pushing against each other, forcing him to widen his stance. Up top his pectorals puffed up and broke free of his shirt, and arms grew thick, forced to the sides as his midsection grew rounder. By the time he stopped he was a bloated caricature of a person, much to the notice of the other people in the park. "It had to have been this big, right?"

Lori pursed her lips, slowly shaking her head.

"Fine," he growled. Once more he breathed in, his belly taking up more and more of his body. Bit by bit his arms were pulled into his form, and bit by bit his legs grew wider and shorter, until both were mere rounded bumps on his sides and his body rested on the curve of his lower hemisphere. His shirt was torn open, but despite that his clothing still held on, stretched as it was. When he paused again he was all but round, having gained another head or two of height. "This big?"

She gave him a helpless shrug. "Nope."

"FINE." He gulped down air in a fury, his body surging out in all directions with each breath. Within moments he was double his normal height, matching a weather balloon in scale, and showing no signs of stopping. "I'LL SHOW YOU BIG!" His body heaved as it suddenly grew another yard, letting out a low groan. "I'LL SHOW YOU THE BIGGEST BLIMP IN THE WORLD!"

The two young women approached as Lori looked up at her boyfriend, standing in his ever-growing shadow. "So..." one began, "you just tease him and he does... this?"

"Hey," Lori said. "Don't kinkshame."


	8. Swim Lessons (m/m, full body, blowkiss)

It was a cliche, but before Quint knew it he had fallen in love with his teacher.

Of course it helped that they were both adults just out of college, Alex being Quint's swimming instructor. It also helped that Alex had a calming presence and a disarming personality, along with his tendency to wear form-fitting swim shorts and no shirt. That he was perpetually tanned was a boon as well, the sum of which meant that more often than not their "private lessons" became something more. Quint kind of preferred it when it happened, because he was honestly, truly unable to get the hang of moving in water.

"I really wanted to learn how to swim," Quint said as they sat on the edge of the pool. "Seventy percent of the planet is basically covered by a death hazard if you can't."

"You just need a little more practice," Alex replied. "It-"

"You're trying to help, and I appreciate that, but I just don't think I'm meant to float."

Alex opened his mouth to protest before closing it again, lapsing into thought. Finally he said, "I think I can do something about that."

"How do you mean?"

In reply Alex leaned over, gently taking Quint's head in his hands before moving in and kissing him. It was unexpected but not unwanted, and Quint returned it in kind, wondering what he meant. He didn't have long to wonder as, holding him steady, Alex took a deep breath and blew into him.

Quint felt air flow -into- him, his body giving no resistance as his flat stomach swelled up to the size of a beer gut. Alex took a breath and blew again, and the tiles bordering the pool felt a little less hard as his backside widened, swim trunks growing tighter. As Alex continued to blow the air spread outward, torso growing barrel-shaped with full pecs, arms turning swollen and sausage-like, and thighs pressing against each other as his legs began feeling less heavy in the water.

As Alex pulled away to catch his breath, Quint took stock of his body. At first glance he looked fat, but there was no sag or rolls to him anywhere; it was all smooth and taut. He pressed one chubby finger against the roll of his gut, the digit sinking in with little resistance. He looked over at Alex, noting that he was sitting two or three inches higher. "What did you do?"

"I think you can float now," he replied. "Try it out."

"That-" He glanced at the water. "...sure, okay." Leaning forward, he did a mostly graceful dive into the pool, air-filled belly pushing up against him as it bobbed beneath the surface. He turned face-up, finding himself floating on his back with no effort on his part whatsoever, and he felt somehow both at ease and excited by it.

After a few moments Alex joined him, swimming up beside him. "You see? It's easy."

"Sure," Quint laughed, "if I've been blown up like a pool toy. I'm going to need someone to do this every time I get in trouble."

"Really." Alex reached one arm over the swell of his body. "Well I guess I better stick by you, then."


	9. Pool Balloon (full body, TF)

One of the benefits of living near the coast in a warm climate was the ready availability of beaches. Unfortunately for Atsuko and Marissa this was common knowledge so, for fully half the year, they had to deal with overcrowding and tourists whenever they wanted to go swimming. Eventually, between the congested parking lots and small children, they decided that enough was enough and started doing laps in a public pool within driving distance of the shore that was ignored to the point of nearly being abandoned.

Nearly.

There was someone else there on this particular day, a young man about their age in sandals, red surf shorts, and a T-shirt. He wasn't being an active nuisance, but he did ruin the solitude of the area, a point which grew to irritate Atsuko. "Man, he's not even swimming. Why is he here?"

"Not sure," Marissa replied. "Want me to deal with him?"

"How? You're going to ask him to leave?"

"No, I was thinking something different. I'm a witch."

Atsuko opened her mouth before closing it again, lapsing into thought for a few seconds before speaking. "In what sense? Because contemporary paganism isn't unified; most academics treat it as a group of different religions ranging from Reconstructionism to Eclecticism with no real direct lineage to pre-modern polytheistic-"

"Okay, okay," Marissa interrupted, gesturing for her to stop. "Let me rephrase that: I'm a female wizard."

"Oh." A beat. "You're thirty?"

Marissa shrugged helplessly.

"Was it worth it?"

"Oh, absolutely. I don't look thirty, do I?"

"I thought that was just good genes. You're saying it's magic?"

"Eh, little of column A, little of column B. So." Marissa inclined her head towards the young man before picking up a pool noodle off the ground. "How do we deal with our guest?"

"Maybe have him float off," Atsuko replied. "Turn him into a balloon or something."

"Can do." She spread her arms, gesturing with the pool noodle before pointing it at the young man, and from somewhere out of sight came a bored-sounding "poof."

The young man visibly winced, clutching his stomach before straightening up again. He reached under his shirt, prodding gently at his midsection before pausing and stripping it off, much to the delight of the two young women. There, splashed across his abdomen, was a patch of bright blue, quickly spreading up and down to his chest and beneath his waistband. In a panic he brushed his fingers against it, trying to rub the coloring off as it began coating his arms and legs. He stared at his hands in shock, the color rising up his head as his hair grew fluffier, clumping together in a single mass. As the last of his body turned blue there was a quiet "pop" and he took on a dull sheen, navel inverting to reveal the tied-off mouth of a balloon.

Atsuko let out an appreciative whistle. "Okay. I'm impressed."

He patted himself down, expression changing to one of shock. Turning his head, he noticed the two seemingly for the first time and hurried over to them. "You have to help me!" he exclaimed, breathing heavily. "I'm a balloon!"

"We can see that," Marissa said.

"No, you don't understand!" He held out one arm. "I'm empty!" His chest rose, falling again to almost but not quite its previous size. "Balloons aren't supposed to be empty!" He took a breath, trim stomach growing into a pot belly. "They're supposed to be full!" Another breath and his limbs thickened, giving him a fattened look. "And big!" He drew in a third, far beyond what any lungs could hold, and grew all over; his midsection bulged, thighs pressing against each other as his arms were pushed up by his pneumatic love handles.

Atsuko leaned in towards Marissa. "Is this normal?" she whispered.

"Sometimes there's some..." Marissa gestured. "Mental changes."

The young balloon man heaved in another breath, torso growing round as his legs were reduced to thick, short stumps. He tipped backwards onto the twin swells of his rear end; with another massive inhale, his lower body was reduced to a rounded hemisphere as his limbs were pulled flat, feet half sunken into divots on his sides, and he rocked back to an upright position. Despite his practically spherical body, everything above his shoulders was still somewhat normal-looking, albeit massively swollen: His cheeks were puffy, his hands swollen, and his arms looked like thick balloons tapering in at his joints.

"You don't say," Atsuko replied, eyeing the figure that was now at least two heads higher than either of them were tall.

"I have to be bigger!" he exclaimed. Huffing and puffing, he continued to grow, swelling out and up inches at a time. Within moments he had reached, then exceeded the scale of a weather balloon, shorts stretched impossibly far across his lower half. With each intake of air his body let out quiet creaks and squeaks and, to the dismay of the young women, his rate of growth seemed to be increasing as he swelled ever larger.

As he crested two stories in height, obscuring most of the pool from view, Atsuko and Marissa found themselves in his growing shadow. Gesturing animatedly to him, Atsuko exclaimed, "do something!"

"Like what?" Marissa asked. "I can't turn him back, he's got a bunch of air in him."

"MORE!" he shouted. His mouth stretched unnaturally wide as he pulled in more air with an audible "whoosh," surging out a yard. Another massive heave of breath and his body let out a low groan, taut latex vibrating from the sudden bout of swelling.

"Can't you get the air -out?-" Atsuko asked.

Marissa turned back to the young man, mouth moving wordlessly as she attempted to formulate a plan, watching as the figurative hot air balloon approached the size of a literal one, overshadowing the pool, the fence, and the building behind them. Despite the speed of his inflation, his progress seemed to grow slower and louder as groans and growls emanated from within, and his stretchy blue skin took on a brighter sheen. "I... I think that might not be an issue." She took Atsuko by the arm, retreating back into the changing rooms.

They disappeared from view as the young man struggled to pull in a final breath, body creaking ominously as it loomed over his surroundings. As the air settled inside of him he let out a contented sigh, patting the top of his gargantuan midsection. "Mmmm... finally."

But something still felt... unfinished.

Raising a chubby arm, the young man plunged his thumb into his mouth and blew as hard as he could. His cheeks ballooned to the size of grapefruits and his arms swelled dramatically as he struggled to force more air into himself. Slowly, his taxed body grew inch by inch, straining and throbbing from the pressure as it slowly grew translucent.

After all, there was one other thing balloons were known to do.

*****

After hearing the explosion, Marissa and Atsuko stepped out into a swirling snowstorm of blue scraps of latex and red bits of surf shorts. Scanning the area for any sign of the young man, Marissa looked up in time for his deflated, flattened body to flop onto her head, completely nude and, judging from the relaxed expression on his face, quite pleased with himself.

"...well," Marissa said finally. "I guess things turned out okay."

Atsuko took one of the young man's hands between her finger and thumb, inspecting it. "Guess so." A moment later she added, "so, can we keep him?"


	10. Uber Beach (full body, m/m)

At first glance Ian and Andrew wouldn't seem like they would get along: Ian was a morning person and loved the outdoors, Andrew was a night owl and preferred staying inside. But as time went on they learned they had more in common than they thought, and gained an appreciation for things they didn't from each other. On occasion Ian stayed out late, other times Andrew woke up early, and every so often they would wake up early or stay up late, depending on the other's inclination, and fuck like rabbits.

Ian cajoled Andrew to get up before dawn one day, with the promise of watching the sun rise on the beach with him. It was still, quiet, and empty but for the two of them, and they merely sat in silence enjoying the other's company as the day broke. Andrew considered it worthwhile, not least because his Mediterranean boyfriend stripped down to a set of swim trunks for a quick dip; the view was nice already but, he reasoned, there were always ways to make it better. Plus the privacy afforded him the ability to engage in other plans.

Ian returned, sitting down beside Andrew. "You should get out more often," he said. "The sun might do you some good."

"The Irish don't tan," Andrew replied, gesturing to his pale complexion and red hair, "they just get really crispy."

He shrugged. "Fair enough." As his partner reached into his pants pockets he asked, "what've you got, there?"

Andrew removed two bottles, holding them up for him to see. "Inflation pills."

"You brought them with us?" He glanced around the beach. "Sure, okay."

As Ian reached for one, Andrew pulled it back. "I brought a bottle for each of us," he said, smiling.

Ian let out a short laugh. "A -bottle?- -Each?-" After a moment of thought he took one of them from Andrew. "Sure, why not? Maybe we'll even deflate before someone notices."

As they opened them Andrew said, "we probably won't." He tossed the wad of cotton aside. "Definitely not after a hundred pills."

While numerous, they were small, and swallowing them all was easier than they expected. Setting the bottles down they looked eagerly at each other, watching for the first signs of growth. It wasn't seen, but felt and heard as their stomachs gurgled loudly. Their attention was drawn to themselves as their bellies suddenly surged outward, Andrew's shirt being pushed up and the button on his pants popping off and sailing into the tide from the force. "Woah!"

"Should've worn something with more stretch," Ian said. As their backsides grew larger and rounder, doubling in size, he leaned over and gave Andrew a slap on the rear.

Andrew let out a yelp, kicking his legs as the spreading airy thickness continued down their thighs to their shins. "Easy for you to say," he retorted, "you're half naked."

Their chests rose up into low curves, merging with their guts as their shoulders and arms widened. As their torsos grew rounder their limbs began to starfish, their bodies rolling up into an approximation of a standing position. "Your clothing seems to be hanging on fine, though."

He looked down at himself as best he could; the curve of his body was in the way, but an outside observer could see his shirt and jacket stretched easily across his upper half and his jeans across the bottom, a wide band of skin with a deep navel poking out between them and steadily growing wider as he did. "It's pretty normal, though."

"As normal as this can be, anyway," Ian said. By now their figures were mostly round, as all that remained of their arms and legs were dimpled domes topped with hands and feet. As their widths and heights surpassed their original, non-inflated states, their sides began bumping into each other, bodies still gurgling loudly as the pills worked on them. "Maybe one of us shouldn't have taken them," he added, hands and feet fidgeting. "Are you as hard as I am right now?"

"Probably," Andrew replied, "I'm feeling kind of-"

They stifled a collective moan as their bodies creaked, surging out and bumping into the other, sending them rolling sideways as they swelled to the size of weather balloons, coming to a stop right side up some distance apart. A second later the pressure in their bodies relented, ever so slightly, and their manhoods simply grew up and out. They gained feet in seconds, Ian's pushing down the hem of his swimsuit and Andrew's simply forcing open his fly and tearing through his underwear. They felt them bump and brush against the undersides of their bellies, skin smooth and taut, twitching before they came in a blast of air.

Andrew shook off the daze, looking over at Ian as best he could as they continued to grow. "Ian!" he exclaimed. "You're huge!"

"Me?" he shouted back. "Look at you! Your dick's the size of a person."

"It sure feels like it." Suddenly there was a stiffness in their hands, and Andrew's shoes grew tight. A second later they felt their hands simply billow outward into full spheres, their fingers growing into fat nubs with a series of "pop"s. His shoes were simply ripped apart from the inside as their feet followed suit, oblong balloons topped with round toes. As if catching up for lost time they grew rapidly, uninhibited before their swelling slowed to match the pace of the rest of them, now nearing the scale of hot air balloons. Rather remarkably, their clothing still managed to hold on and cover them at least partway, over two stories of dick each notwithstanding.

"This is starting to get out of hand," Ian shouted, his head half-buried by his own swollen neck. A second later he added, "no pun intended."

"It doesn't hurt, though," Andrew replied, "and it doesn't feel too tight. But next time only one of us should-" Without warning his lips swelled, pursing shut; considering the mutual changes they were experiencing, he could only assume Ian was experiencing the same. His cheeks began to bulge, filling and growing to the scale of oranges, then grapefruits, then matching his head before exceeding it. As he wondered what would happen next he heard the familiar gurgling sound coming from somewhere very close, and there was the rush of gas as his line of sight rose higher off his body, his vision going fish-eyed. Despite what was happening he felt pleasantly dizzy, not really able to focus long enough on being concerned to -be- concerned. As he felt his cock creak as another blast of air erupted from it, his thoughts were pulled away from the notions of helplessness and immobility, focused entirely on fullness and release.

When the first tourists of the day appeared they found much of the beach occupied by two large, slowly growing objects seated side by side. The assumption was that they were giant erotic novelty blimps of some sort, placed there perhaps as a joke. Questions were raised about their ominous size towards the end of the day, but the next morning the only traces of them were articles of massively overstretched clothing, and the matter was considered solved.

Left unnoticed in the far corner of the parking lot was Ian and Andrew, steaming up the windows of Andrew's car as they, in accordance with their inclinations, fucked like rabbits.


	11. Algicott Beach (m/m, GT, butt, PE, berry)

At first the property owner, understandably, misunderstood. After all, when people made a sweeping gesture and said "I'd like to buy this," they meant one of the dining rooms at Vivian's Surf and Turf. When he was informed that this was not the case by the eccentric young man to which he was speaking, he then assumed that the young man meant the entire restaurant; that he wanted to rent it for a party he was having. This, too, was not the case, and he soon clarified his intentions.

"I meant I'd like to buy all of Algicott Beach. The boardwalk, all the stores, and everything within ten miles."

His reaction was unguarded. "You're joking," he laughed. "Who do you even think you are?"

The young man introduced himself as Craig Detwiler, scion of the Wonka-Detwiler fortune. As the property owner would later find out, his grandfather was - allegedly - none other than the candy magnate Willy Wonka. The old newspaper articles he found on the matter told of an affair between him and what was presumably Craig's grandmother. After his mysterious disappearance in 1974 the woman stepped forward, claiming her son was his heir; a paternity test proved it so, and thus the business and fortune went to them. Once the child was of age he proved to be a savvy investor in both dot-com industries during the early nineties as well as housing in the early aughts, cashing in his investments before their respective crashes. At the moment he was the seventeenth richest person on the planet and his son, Craig, possessed no small amount of wealth himself, which was going towards purchasing a positively massive amount of beachfront property.

"But why?" the landowner asked.

Craig looked off into the distance, visibly thinking before turning back to him with a confident expression. "Because large boys," he replied, "are the -best-."

*****

Eric hadn't seen pictures of Algicott Beach before its renovation, but upon arrival the changes made appeared to be quite expansive, both in the sense that there were a lot of them made and in the sense that many of the visitors were in various states of bigness. There were a surprising variety of men rolling, floating, or walking around, both under their own power and with the aid of others. There was a sort of comfort and openness to it that put him at ease; judging from the gate he had driven through far behind him, he recognized that privacy and discretion were of the utmost.

Even if a few of the floaters were hard to ignore.

As he and Simon exited the car, Simon let out an appreciative whistle. "Look at this place."

"I know," Eric replied. He slung a duffel bag over his shoulder before closing the door. "It's really..."

"Hot."

"I was going to say 'impressive,'" he began, heading for the cobblestone path, "but that works too."

As they walked up the path towards the beach proper they passed by another gentleman standing near several gas cylinders, who nodded at them. "Welcome to Algicott Beach. Care for a complimentary fill-up?"

Eric slowed to a stop as he looked at him. "So soon?"

"Some people want to get an early start," he replied with a shrug.

"Well, I don't." With a gesture to Simon he added, "but he does."

"What?" Simon asked, laughing.

"Oh, come on," he replied, taking him by the wrist and pulling him over. To the man he said, "it was the only thing he talked about on the way here."

"Okay, okay." With a playful roll of his eyes Simon pulled up the hem of his t-shirt, revealing his navel. "Fill 'er up."

The man removed the nozzle from its hook, tapping the handle to let off a burst of air before pressing it to Simon's navel and letting it stream into him. His abs lost definition almost instantly as his belly surged out, rising up into a high dome before beginning to bulge off his frame. Simon touched it with both hands, feeling the skin pull as it stretched larger.

"How is it?" the man asked.

"Unreal," Simon breathed. His clothing began to grow tight as his pecs rose off his frame and his thighs and ass swelled. As his midsection took on a more rounded shape the stitches in the legs of his shorts began to go, the sleeves of his pushed-up shirt following soon after. There was a growing resistance in his arms as they bulked up, and Simon found it harder to keep them bent until he finally relaxed, letting them be forced out to the sides as his limbs began to starfish. "Hey, I think my clothing is about to-"

There was a series of rips as his clothing was forced apart by his body, falling to the ground around him and leaving him in an overtaxed set of briefs, the elastic reaching its limits. A few seconds later there was a quiet series of snaps and it slipped free, leaving him completely nude. Simon blushed, waving his wide, stubby arms back and forth in a valiant yet futile attempt to cover up his erection, now far more swollen than normal from the air.

"Don't worry," the man said. "It happens to a lot of guys."

"Ruined clothes?"

"Oh. That too, sure. We've got clothing on sale. It's one size fits all."

"Does it include this size too?" Eric asked.

"This and larger," he replied. "There was a big lawsuit over the claim so the company was forced to double down on quality."

Eric gave Simon a pat on the back, causing a drum-like resonance. "You hear that? Larger than this."

"I feel big enough as it is." He was certainly round enough, Simon thought, looking like a flesh-toned balloon but for the curves of his backside and belly and his rapidly-disappearing limbs. As he felt his hands and feet sink in, shins and forearms somehow beginning to touch his ankles and wrists the man removed the nozzle, and he felt the gas shift a bit as his skin let out a series of quiet creaks. As Eric circled around him, looking him over, Simon felt a warmth in his cheeks despite himself, knowing that he was fully on display for both him and anyone who cared to be watching. He was full but not uncomfortably so, except for perhaps a needy stiffness in certain parts that Eric clearly noticed.

"So do I just roll him away?" Eric asked.

The man nodded. "Roll, carry, whatever you two are okay with." Leaning in he lowered his voice to a whisper, adding, "...and the place is built with a lot of cul-de-sacs. For privacy."

Eric nodded before moving both hands over Simon's body, rolling him onto his back. He gently pushed him along the path, eyes focused on an alcove between buildings in the distance. He doubted their room had a door wide enough, so he had to let out some of the "pressure," after all.

*****

While biology and genetics are hard sciences, they are by no means immune to chance. Darren had three other siblings, all girls, and while his mother was blessed with callipygian beauty, only Darren inherited her figure, much to everyone's surprise. Himself included; buying clothing that fit was a problem that grew worse in the years following puberty, as pants with waistlines that could accomodate his hips and ass looked more like bell bottoms on him. His growth eventually tapered off during his last year of college, leaving him with an ass that overflowed the average student desk chair and a custom tailor that he knew on a first-name basis.

Algicott Beach was the first time he was able to buy clothing off the rack and expect it to fit, which was a positively revelatory occasion. He settled on a comfortable set of booty shorts, changing into them at the store and wearing them out onto the boardwalk. Despite the sights on display he still recieved his fair share of attention, but he didn't really mind too much.

As he walked by a kiosk with free pumps, however, a thought crossed his mind that hadn't been there before: What if he was... bigger? Not permanently, of course - he was forced out of his way enough as it was by his figure - but maybe for a little bit, just to see what it would be like. So with some aid from the attendant, he took a pump with a nozzle that was both suggestive and left nothing to the imagination, and went behind the kiosk and out of sight of passers-by. The nozzle was snug but not painful, and after adjusting things for a bit he had the hose coming up between his cheeks and looping around his side atop one hip, the pump securely in his grasp. Figuring he had passed the point of no return long ago, Darren drew the handle out before pushing it back in again.

There was a painless sense of pressure, of something weightless but with volume, that quickly dissapated as the fabric of his shorts pulled and shifted across his skin. He followed the first with a few more slow pumps, glancing to either side of himself and watching in rapt attention as his hips and ass grew. He paused, turning his backside towards a nearby mirror, noting that there was a bit more momentum in his motion; what once overflowed a single seat would now easily take up two. Shifting his weight from foot to foot he noticed a bit more bulk in his legs as well, and a turn towards his reflection confirmed that not only were his thighs notably thicker, his shins were as well, giving his limbs a conical taper.

Darren continued pumping, a faint wobbling and rippling sensation spreading across his skin. He once thought he was merely getting wider, but upon noticing the change in his angle on the surroundings he realized that he was getting taller as well: Everything above his waist was untouched, but beneath that his body was growing thicker and wider. Compared to some of the men he had seen, however, he was still mobile, perhaps surprisingly so.

When he stepped out onto the boardwalk again he had gained over a yard in height, eyes level with the roofs and awnings of nearby buildings. His booty shorts still fit perfectly, but that was not to say that his figure was even remotely like what it was when he first put them on: Ordinary sneakers and normal-looking ankles flared out to trunk-like proportions, leading up to a set of hips and an ass that would not just overflow a couch but serve as one unto itself.

This was proven when he walked by a low balcony and two Hispanic young men - twins - boarded him - there was really no other word for it - taking a seat on either side of his torso. He glanced to either side, and it took Darren a few seconds to fully comprehend that despite looking as if they were seated on a bed of some sort, that it was -him-, his body, bouncing and shaking beneath them as he moved. "Oh," he said, taken aback. "Hello."

"Hi," the one on his left said. "I'm Elias."

"I'm Lucas," the one on the right added.

"You know," Elias said with a smile, "you really stick out in a crowd."

"Mostly to the sides and back."

"Well," Darren said, "I didn't like being the center of attention before, but it's starting to grow on me."

The twins exchanged a sly look. "I guess you should be careful," Elias said, patting Darren's widened backside. "You don't want it getting crowded up here."

"I'm not worried." He punctuated his statement by pulling out the handle of the pump and pressing it in again. "I can always make more room."

*****

Even when he was an impressionable young teenager with binders full of drawings of anime characters, Tobias always felt that the harem trope was over-indulgent fantasy. The idea that people would, en masse, throw themselves at the feet of someone they mutually found attractive was purely projection on the writers' parts, especially since so many of them had so little in the way of redeeming qualities. Transparent escapism, and nothing more.

That was his freshman high school year. By his senior graduation he had grown several inches, put on several pounds of muscle, his acne had cleared up entirely, and he had exchanged his glasses for a pair with frames that looked better on him. He was practically a different person, one that had not escaped the notice of his classmates as his senior year he was the target of no fewer than nineteen propositions, eight of which were male students who came out to him as gay or "I'm not gay, but."

As for college, several jokes were made about "summa cum laude," the details of which can be left to one's imagination.

Now, in what was a solo visit to Algicott Beach, he had acquired no fewer than four followers in the span of a day and a half, the most recent one when he was walking along the shore in wetsuit shorts and a windbreaker without a shirt. Upon reflection, that last one may have partly been his fault.

"It's a great day and all," the new arrival said, "but why don't we head inside for a bit?"

"I already -was- inside," Tobias replied. "This is the first time I've been out all day."

"I can confirm this," one of Tobias' hangers-on added. "We had a late night."

"...and an early morning," the second said.

"Okay, well-" The new arrival gestured to the rest. "-you guys can wait outside the room, then."

The third frowned as he moved around towards Tobias, a gesture he clearly recognized as possessive in nature. "There's enough of him to go around, you know."

Tobias held his hands to his sides in an expression of disbelief. "There really isn't. Even three people is kind of pushing it."

Something cold and cylindrical, damp with condensation, was placed in Tobias' hand. He glanced down at it, his head turning to either side before spotting a man with an open cooler giving him an okay sign with one hand as he walked away. Giving it another look it bore the name of "La Pompa Grande", featuring a cartoonishly bulgy silhouette and a notable lack of labels aside from Wonka-Detwiler logo. Figuring that no harm could come of consuming sparsely-marked Wonka products handed to him by a complete stranger, he popped the tab and drank. It was heavily carbonated and citrus-like in flavor, but not overly so, and he finished in a matter of moments, lobbing it into a distant garbage can with an underhanded throw.

No sooner did he do that than Tobias felt something bubble up from his gut, and he muffled a quiet burp with the back of his hand. If nothing else that only seemed to make his sudden gassiness worse - not painful, but at least more intense - and he belched loudly as his gut gurgled, his four companions taking a step back in surprise as he suddenly shot up a foot. Tobias looked between them and made a move to speak asking what just happened when another belch rolled out of him, punctuating another fit of growth that was followed only a matter of seconds later by yet another.

They looked on as he let out a constant stream of carbonation-induced burps, each of them causing him to grow a bit more. Not just taller, but rounder, his features being softened by curves and plumped up by whatever gas was filling all parts of his body, reaching even his now-chubby cheeks. Some were growing faster than others, as Tobias had a pronounced paunch to his gut by the time the others came up to his knees. His shorts, meanwhile, were filling up dramatically, contours of the fabric putting his oversized length on display as his package pressed against the inside of his legs in its growth.

For his part Tobias was surprised but not unpleasantly so, trying to reduce the noise to a bare minimum by covering his mouth. Having gained and continuing to gain several yards and rounding out in semi-public wasn't a problem - he certainly wasn't alone in that regard - but as his scale gradually grew more comparable to the nearby motel he started to worry that the attention would get him more admirers. As his stomach rumbled loudly and bulged out he began to worry; a single ear-splitting belch erupted from him and he shot up another story in the process, but after that whatever was inside him had quieted down and run its course.

The other four appeared to be up to mid-shin to him, but it was hard to tell as his stance had widened somewhat. He clumsily eased himself to the ground, noting that he felt lighter despite being larger in more than one sense, taking a seat on the sand and stretching his legs out at an angle. Pressing his stomach in and craning his neck up he could see a bulge like two weather balloons side by side with an endowment long and thick enough to easily crush a car. He pressed both hands into either side of his package, finding it firm yet still pleasingly soft.

One of his harem pointed. "Okay," he said, "*now* there's enough to go around."

*****

From his penthouse office Craig Detwiler watched the visitors go about their days. This, he thought, was one of the best ideas he had ever had.

Behind him he heard a rap on the doorframe and he turned his head, only managing to move it a few degrees; it was more done out of reflex than any ability to see or move. "Was there anything you needed, Craig?" His personal assistant.

"Well." Craig flapped his hands and feet. "What I thought I'd do was lie here as a huge berry boy until someone came along and fucked me so hard that juice spilled out of every hole."

"That may take a while." The assistant unbuckled his belt. "Shall I cancel your appointments?"

"Cancel them?" He laughed. "Why did you think I -made- them?"


End file.
